


50m freestyle

by orphan_account



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Gen, M/M, Swim Team AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 17:59:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1437505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha noticed first, because she noticed everything first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	50m freestyle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zhennie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zhennie/gifts).



> loosely based on the swimming anime free!  
> nothing gets explained

Natasha noticed first, because she noticed everything first. She was the first one to realize that Steve secretly worked out, that Clint snuck off between second and third period to brush his teeth in the bathroom, that Tony couldn’t cook for himself and was living off half-boiled pasta and incessant amounts of Chinese takeout in the months following his parents’ accident.

She caught Tony one afternoon in the dead of winter, freshly fallen snow gathering across her eyelashes and melting as she walked to the edge of the indoor pool. Heat and a shield from the wind outside fought the cold still burning across her cheeks, spilled blood into them as a result. Her hands came up to cover them.

To Tony’s credit, he didn’t immediately jerk up and start defending himself. He floated congenially towards her, dipping under the lane divisions instinctively without once surfacing for air. “Caught me at last, Romanoff.”

“Does Steve know?” she shot back.

With his hair all plastered sadly right up against his forehead, and his eyes squinting through the chlorine, Tony looked like he was thirteen again. He shrugged. “It wouldn’t make a difference.”

“Like hell it wouldn’t. He’s your best friend. You still haven’t told him why you quit, either.”

“Yeah — and what’s he going to do when I tell him? Smile me into competing again?”

“He would stop thinking it was his fault,” Natasha pointed out.

“I  _told_  him it wasn’t his fault.”

“Go on, Stark.” She crossed her arms. “He’s still in art club.”

“You want me to tell him  _now_?” Tony hissed, sinking his face halfway into the water again in order to blow a long trail of bubbles. He liked watching the bubbles. It reminded him that there was still something in his lungs. He liked swimming, too — he liked winning at swimming, until he won something he shouldn’t have, landed a few people in the hospital, landed an iron chip in his heart, landed a goldmine for a best friend by the name of Steve Rogers.

“If you’re not doing it today, you’re never going to think about this again.”

“Sometimes I feel like we’re in a one-sided friendship, Romanoff. It’s the kind where you know everything about me and I know nothing about you.”

“That’s not true. You know my taste in movies and food and color palettes. Don’t change the subject.” She tapped her boot against the tiling, and the resounding echo bounced around the walls and high ceilings. “I’ll text Steve right now if you don’t move.”

“You’re being more terrible than usual today,” Tony remarked as he hoisted himself out of the pool, because Natasha had pulled out her totally-not-trashy red and black cased phone. “God, will you get rid of that awful phone case? Red spike patterns? Really? Could’ve gone for red and gold at least. Much classier.”

“It’s a present from Clint.” Her phone buzzed. “Oh, hey, Steve’s on his way out of art club. I’ll tell him to come here.”

“He’ll know I’m here!”

“Tony, I’m the manager of the  _swim team_. Why wouldn’t  _I_  be here?”

Tony brushed water droplets off his shoulders. Tried not to think about how, back then, Steve would run up to him with a big fluffy towel and an even bigger, fluffier smile. Tried not to think, either, about the way Steve looked surprised and then altogether blank as Tony told him he was quitting swimming. (Forever, he’d added petulantly.) The way Steve had apologized when he, Tony, didn’t offer either an apology or an explanation. “Okay, okay. I have to drive him home anyway.”

Natasha’s grin was cat-like. Tony watched for a second as her finger smoothed down a spot on the phone case, where the red was losing its shine a little. The he pulled on a hoodie. “Should’ve known this was coming.”

“That would make you more like me,” Nat told him.

“… on second thought, I’m glad I didn’t know this was coming.” His eyes roved over to the backpack slouching against the wall. It was blue, matched Steve’s red one. They got them for Steve’s birthday last year, to celebrate the start of high school. And suddenly, it was hard for him to wait for Steve to show up, to wait for Steve’s face to inevitably light up. For once in his life, he could chase after Steve.

“I’ll be right back,” Tony called, and then — he ran.


End file.
